


One thousand times

by argonautic



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Oh the urgency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argonautic/pseuds/argonautic
Summary: One could bet Jeremy will get away with mentioning James one thousand times in his pieces. James did.
Relationships: Jeremy Clarkson/James May
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	One thousand times

**Author's Note:**

> So I was writing this when this happened: https://www.instagram.com/p/B-H-cjTgdFL/  
> Obviously, I wrote faster.
> 
> EDITED: minor corrections of major errors

_Ok, it's just a phone call and it's James. Come on._

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. _Oh M_ _ay, you and your sodding mobile, where the hell do you-_

"’llo Clarkson"

James says. It works as a starting light: Jeremy straightens and solemnly states:

"One thousand."

"What?"

"One thousand. Today. And on The Times, because you deserve better than the yellow press"

Jeremy hadn’t planned it, it just happened to be. But it was a nice touch in the end. It doesn’t take much longer for James to understand, to Jeremy’s relief.

"Jeremy what the... oh, cock. Are you serious?"

It was an old bet. So old James had almost forgotten about it. So old that so many things have changed meanwhile. It was the usual banter between them, questioning each other's cars, taste in booze and writing skills. About the lasts, at a time Jeremy proudly asserted he was such a better columnist than James that he could get away with mentioning James one thousand times in his pieces. James snorted in response: Jeremy’s point was surreal and so deliciously foolish, almost tender under a certain point of view. But Jeremy wasn't laughing, it was a fun yet serious matter for him:

"Come on, I'm ready to bet on it", he offered, a plan taking shape in his mind.

James was too tipsy to ask for further provisions, so the bet was sealed just like that, plain and simple. One thousand times. If Jeremy had managed to, James would have paid the due they quickly agreed on, that in the end was better than being asked to do the same in his own articles, James admitted to himself.

Jeremy is very serious, and proud as well:

"You can check for yourself, if you want. One thousand times."

"No need to... oh come on, Jezza, really?"

"What? Do you mean you're not reading my pieces?"

"Well not regularly, not noting down how many times you throw my name in! And, for your luck, not even the context in which you do."

Jeremy puts up a smug grin before replying:

"So why did I keep doing that up until now? If you haven't even noticed?”, in a pretentiously offended tone – he well knows why, he's sure James knows as well.

"Because you're a daft twat. A bloody one", and there’s a point of fondness in the way James articulates those words, there’s a giggle that does something to Jeremy, before he continues:  
  
"I do remember what the wager was, you pillock",

and there's another giggle, and Jeremy thinks it’s a good thing that James remembers it, because despite how much he still finds it a reasonable request, it would be difficult to repeat it now that they’re older – and sober. But, to Jeremy, it still stands against all the odds, like all this mentioning James along the years has persuaded him:

"And now you owe it. Unless you don't want my next piece to illustrate how much of a traitor you are."

"I really don't know what's worse. Anyway, Jeremy, it was so many years ago... do you... do you really still want... that? I mean, so many things have changed...",

with James’s voice losing its confidence while speaking, being almost a whisper at the end of the phrase.

Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping that James haven't heard it, ready to blame disturbances on the line if asked, and answered:

"I do James."

It sounds a bit too engaged, and James has probably had the same sensation, as he starts muttering in reply:

"Er… Oh, well, I'm flattered by..."

"Don't. Don't be flattered, you're grown into an unbearable old man, you're overweight and you stubbornly keep smoking. But a bet it's a bet. So yes, I do", _great save Clarkson,_ Jeremy thinks. Banters. It all started with banters so banters are the right way to deal with it – and James gets it, _oh James you’re not that Slow_ :

"Thanks for the kind words. The Ritz, right?"

"Yes, what about this Friday? Eight?"

"Perfect."

Jeremy breathes a sigh of relief, air leaving space to deep joy, enough to stress out the point of the whole thing at last:

"Great. Please wear something appropriate. Don't forget it's still a date", then regrets his choice and just hangs up.

James stands there, staring at the black screen of his now silent mobile, not sure if he got the last words right.  
  



End file.
